To hear her name spoken like that— it leaves a wanting in her that she scarce knows what to do with. To hear Rani so wanting, as she grasped onto her is beyond her ability to describe. Her abdomen tenses, and she has to remind herself to take a breath, that she can breathe at all.

Her own wanting, though, is something she can set aside in favour of soft, soothing sounds. Carefully (a habit not easily broken by those desperate demands of before) Magni draws her fingers away from Rani, slow, making sure not to inadvertently jostle her in her tenderness, until she can bring both arms to loosely embrace her wife. She can feel the pleasant, lingering sting from Rani's nails. Tiger-marks, she thinks fondly. One of her arms is loosely slung about Rani's waist, the other trailing very slow and very light up and down her spine to soothe her, guide her breathing to steadiness as they lean together.

She will be still, gladly so, just enjoying this new closeness between them, the feeling of her weight and the shudder of her breath, that faint trembling. She's sure she should say something, but she cannot think of a single thing that could do justice to this moment, and so she holds her silence, and just commits all of this to memory.